Wicked as Sin (Wicked & Devoted 1)

With his hands full of her ass, he charged for the stairs. When she skimmed her lips across his bare shoulder and started kissing her way up his neck, his gait turned to a run.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned.

“I already know you’re going to burn me.”

Her whisper shuddered down his spine. No doubt she’d leave him some blisters of her own. If she didn’t realize that, she was either delusional or totally unaware of her own appeal.

Climbing the stairs took for-fucking-ever. When he finally reached the landing, he was out of breath—not from exertion but from his weeping cock rubbing the molten heat between her legs. When she sank her teeth into his shoulder, then lapped at the spot with her little tongue, he was damn near ready to crawl out of his skin.

“Brea…”

“Hmm… You have this hint of salt. I want to know if the rest of you tastes like that.”

At the image of her mouth all over him, One-Mile picked up his pace toward his bedroom, melting with lust. It was taking so fucking long to get down the hallway. If he didn’t get there quickly, he’d shove her against the nearest wall and get inside her just to give them both some goddamn relief.

“You can put your mouth anywhere you want on me, pretty girl. Just wait until we get to the fucking bed.”

She lifted her wide gaze his way, wearing a hint of a smile. “You sound impatient.”

“You think?”

When he grumbled, her smile widened. “So I get to you?”

“After one look, I wanted you. But after one kiss, I knew I’d do anything to have you.”

The smile slid off her face. “Why?”

“We’re about to find out.” He bent and laid her flat across his rumpled sheets. “Let’s take our chemistry for a spin.”

One-Mile didn’t give her a second to rethink or regroup. He covered her body with his and dove into her mouth, praying the balm of her kiss could soothe the rough edges of his agony. Beneath him, she parted her legs as if him sliding between them was the most natural thing in the world. It fucking felt that way when he notched his cock against her pussy again, which he hoped like hell was wet enough to take him. She cried out under him, her nails already digging into his skin like a kneading kitten’s.

Brea tore her lips from his with a gasp. “Pierce…”

“You asked me to suck your nipples.”

“Yes.”

Craving a taste of her, One-Mile cradled one of her breasts in his palm and dragged his tongue over its tight crest.

Yeah, he’d held bigger tits, but none as sweet as hers. This was a pair he could be happy with for the rest of his life—symmetrical, bouncy and round, slightly heavier at the bottom, but still delicate, like her. Her rosy-brown nipples tempted the fuck out of him. They were small and taut, and he wanted to suck the sugary little buttons until she melted for him.

After his first lick, both her peaks swelled to stab the air—pretty, pouting, begging. He turned his mouth to the other and pinched the first, gratified when she arched toward him, as if she was surrendering these luscious little tips to him entirely.

Greedily, he wrapped his lips around the closest one, sucking it deep. He reveled in the toss of her head as she dug her nails into his back again.

“Oh… My…” she panted. “Yes.”

One-Mile wasn’t up for conversation, but he loved hearing her stream-of-pleasure babble. So he drew her deeper into his mouth, swirled his tongue around the captive crest, then released her slowly, teeth nipping gently along the way.

“Please…” She curled her fingers into his short hair and pulled him closer. “More.”

He didn’t argue, just switched breasts. This nipple looked as earnest and engorged as the first. With his thumb and fingers, he plucked at the peak he’d just popped from his mouth. Then he engulfed the other, pulling it ruthlessly between his lips, tonguing it, then gently biting, pecking, gripping.

He kept at her, first one breast, followed by the other, until he reduced Brea to incoherent animal sounds and she twisted in agony beneath him.

“How’s that ache now?” he murmured as he dragged his lips up her neck to nip at her lobe.

“Do something. I need…” She bit her lip and stared with helpless eyes. “I need you.”

One-Mile was only too happy to oblige. Sure, he’d love to take a leisurely tour of her body, get his hands wherever she had curves, and let his mouth linger anywhere she might taste good. That would have to wait until round two. Right now, he didn’t think either of them could stand another second of him not being inside her.

Jesus, his cock ached. Brea was like a fever; he was fucking sweating with need for her. He had to take her. Possess her. Own her.